


A Different Kind of Recall

by Florayna



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florayna/pseuds/Florayna
Summary: A series of connected one-shots.Angela recalls the turning points in her relationship with Moira, after the geneticist is fired from Overwatch.Look out- its sad... but I am a merciful goddess. I promise a happy end.





	A Different Kind of Recall

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Description:  
> Angela was no psychologist, but she was more than capable of appreciating something so morbidly amusing as the Dunning-Kruger Effect in practice.
> 
> For the Moicy Discord! Compliments of Bubble_Freak.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Jan 23)  
> Went back and edited a lil'bit. Chapter two is still in the works! Going to be significantly longer than this first bit, and way less sad. Sorry that updates take so long but I'm a pretty slow writer. Every time I sit down to work on a fic it's like- 
> 
> OH! SHINY! 
> 
> Easily distracted Florayna is easily distracted.

_I’ve learned enough about something to know what I don’t know._

 

 

It was odd how the omnipresent growl of the AC unit went unnoticed, like white noise, until the rare bouts of peaceful silence settled over her office. No flicking papers or tapping keys, a welcomed absence of people knocking incessantly at her door. Just Angela, and an odd train of thought responsible for breaking her otherwise dour mood.

 

None of her peers expected her to return to the lab so soon. She’d heard the bits of shameless gossip that filled every corner of the room, before shocked scientists bit their tongues mid thought. But too late. 

 

 

“...I am honestly surprised it took this long to happen.”

 

  
“I can’t believe she actually turned in the frigid bitc-”

 

 

“Who gets her lab now? Do we even have another geneticist? God I hope not if they’re anything like her…”

 

 

“Imagine how Dr.Ziegler’s doin’ though… I’d hate to be in her position. What kinda woman would do that to Angela, right?”

 

Each word was so fresh in her mind she could rehearse them with perfect clarity. But the more she blankly stared at the door of her office, the more she understood the colleagues beyond the threshold. They’d never caught a glimpse of what lay beyond the biting sarcasm and all too easily earned ire. Moira was the ultimate villain to them, so _easy_ to hate they believed you could scarcely find a redeemable bone in her body. And if you tried, well, you were prone to finding a portal to hell first…

 

Nevertheless Angela couldn’t bring herself to feel any resentment towards them. Like children star gazing, they spoke of what their eyes could behold and wouldn’t entertain the idea there might’ve been more to Dr.O’Deorain than that. Truly, the unfortunate souls had no idea what they were missing. But Angela did. Like…

 

_Morning coffee, foggy glasses,_

_A half popped collar, stained tie,_

_Offhand quips, losing their bite to sleep deprivation._

 

_The first time she saw past Dr.O'Deorain._

_The first time she saw Moira._

 

She remembered those things that made Moira human. Things she once held naught but affection for, now lending her a wretched roiling in her gut, a near painful tightness in her throat... If anyone were to open her door a short few minutes later, to find the respected Doctor Ziegler slumped in the chair at her desk, looking oh so very small, but  **laughing** despite the angry tears in her eyes, they’d be worried. They might try to comfort her. But they wouldn’t understand.

 

 

 

 Every heartbreak is different.

 

_Fiery hair, so out of place falling over mismatched eyes. Hiding, shamed, last words;_

_“My dear, loss has a way of inspiring madness.”_


End file.
